Asterification
by mimosa eyes
Summary: Headcanon and in-episode one-shots expanding on various characterizations. Asterifying YJ one fic at a time. Update: And he doesn't trust his voice so he remains silent, with the starry atmosphere abruptly frigid in the back of his throat. Traught alternate scene in Performance. Previous update: Jaime and Bart friendship coda to Before the Dawn.
1. Jamais Vu

**Summary: Without them, it doesn't feel right, doesn't feel the same. And it never should. Tag to Performance — "Jamais Vu": experiencing a situation that one recognizes but that nonetheless seems very unfamiliar.  
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**Genres: Family & Angst  
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**Character: Richard G./Robin**

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It doesn't feel right when he grips the trapeze bar. Not at first. He knows M'gann is taking all her cues from him, watching him to know just how much chalk she would need, whether to start smiling while climbing up to the platform, or only when the spotlight hits her. But he can't bring himself to paw through those four-year-old memories. He's afraid he's let the wrenching denouement of those days eclipse all the happiness they contained.

It should be easy, he thinks, to slip back into something he grew up doing. Only it isn't. It doesn't feel right, because it doesn't feel the same.

_Robin_, M'gann prompts him, and suddenly his mind clears, as if clicking into a different gear. Disciplined, with pre-set procedures to follow. For a moment Robin takes over, even though Dick is the one to whom this is all meant to be familiar. _Grip the bar with your hands shoulder-width apart_, he instructs her mentally, demonstrating as he does so. _And no matter what happens — don't blow our cover._ Far below, psychic encouragement from Conner rises up to meet them.

_Relax_, he tells everyone, even as his own muscles tense up. It doesn't feel right, he thinks, going behind Batman's back like this. But there was no way old Jack was behind the global crime spree. Vaguely he registers Artemis wishing them all good luck (_Break a leg_) and Conner's subsequent, astounded _What?_

It doesn't feel right, Robin thinks. Not even with every fiber poised and ready to fulfill the shared purpose that was _this performance, _as it should rightfully be_._ Without them, it doesn't feel right, doesn't feel the same. And it never should.

But once the accompanying music starts up, and resounding cheers reach his ears from far below... It's not a tangible change; he doesn't stand any taller or have the weight Robin has to bear miraculously lifted off his shoulders. But everyone in the telepathic link feels the subtle release as their youngest team member manages to give them a mental variation of his trademark laugh.

There's a dark quality behind it, a quiet determination that makes Artemis shudder the moment she detects it. And whether he's still aware that they can hear all his thoughts, they aren't sure. Robin seems to be talking mostly to himself when he vows, _Whatever happens, I'll manage._

_I'll manage._

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**This new mini-project of mine is basically a series of tags that 'flesh out' the so-called missing moments in episodes. It's not a request fic per se, but if you leave me a review asking for something I'll do my best. (Or, just leave a review to, you know. Be nice?)  
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**m.e.**


	2. Quiescent

**Summary: But for some reason he lingered there, almost cupping her face, with a delicateness that stunned her. "You're bleeding," he concluded unnecessarily, worry obvious in the tension in his jaw. Tag to Usual Suspects — "Quiescent". Spitfire.  
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**Genre: Hurt/Comfort  
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**Characters: Wally W./Kid Flash & Artemis C./Artemis  
**

* * *

"Souvenir," Artemis remarked, smiling at him. As they turned to meet up with the rest of the team, she put a hand to her temple. He wouldn't have noticed anything out of the ordinary but for how quickly she (admittedly surreptitiously) hid it behind her back.

Almost instantaneously, Wally placed his hands on her shoulders, gently guiding her to face him. He raised a hand slowly, hesitatingly, to the gash on the side of her head, hidden just at her hairline. The archer held completely still as he brushed with his thumb at a couple strands of now-bloodied hair. She waited for him to let go of her, but for some reason he lingered there, almost cupping her face, with a delicateness that stunned her. "You're bleeding," he concluded unnecessarily, mere inches from her, worry obvious in the tension in his jaw.

"Good thing you got here in time, I guess," she finally commented, her tone an eclectic mix of offhand and grateful. Wally's eyes flickered to hers for a split second; then he abruptly pulled away. "Must've happened when Sportsmaster..." She let her voice fade away, frowning when she finally took in the gravity in his posture, his uncharacteristic solemnity.

"Can you walk?" he asked the ground. Artemis could have sworn she heard his voice quiver.

"I'm walking now, aren't I?" _And we're back to jibes. I can handle that._

He barely acknowledged the statement. "Head wounds always bleed a lot," he remarked to no one in particular. Another brief glance. Even as he spoke, she felt a warm trickle of blood run down the side of her face. A slight chilly breeze picked up; she shivered at the strange sensation. Hoping her companion hadn't noticed, Artemis put on a smile and naturally, easily, grabbed his hand to drag him along. "Don't be a baby. It's not like you haven't seen a little blood before."

_No, _he thought. _You've just never been the one who got hurt, before._

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**To Energized, who wanted 'more Robin or Roy' — I'll definitely get to it. (It would help if you specified a particular scene you wanted to see)**

**Side note: yours truly has a long-running, rarely-updated fic called _Fill In The Blanks_ that I really want to update. The two chapters up already are Christmas and Valentine's Day. Prompt me a similar special event if you like.  
**

**m.e.**


	3. Play Day

**Summary: "It's easy enough!" Barry had reassured him. "Just don't let Wally feed Rob glitter glue and no matter what," he stressed, "no chocolate milk after nine." Pre-YJ. Tag inspired by Salvage — "Play Day". Fluff.**

**Genres: Friendship & Humor**

**Character: Roy H./Red Arrow**

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"_You're the guy we trained beside, fought beside. You're the only _you_ we know."_

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"Stay put," Roy instructed Wally, who gave him a cheeky vanilla grin before continuing to devour his monster cone of ice cream. Some of the sugary treat dribbled onto his hand.

"Why?" the rebellious twelve-year-old demanded to know. Immediately the older boy hushed him, but to no avail. Several other customers in the crowded McDonalds outlet turned towards the source of the commotion. Wally ignored them completely. "I wanna come look for Rob! I can—"

"Stay put, or I'll take away your Chemistry set."

Before Wally could ask _which one?_, Roy disappeared into the milling crowds. He felt pretty confident in his stern threat, and mentally thanked his mentor for the training that had helped him take accidental notice of the scientific paraphernalia tucked into various nooks of Wally's room. Turning his thoughts instead to his other charge for the day, he nearly groaned out loud. _Rob's probably wandered off by now, _he realized, feeling a mental face-palm coming. It was _not _a good idea to lose Batman's kid.

_Batman's_ kid — a whole side to 'Rob' Wally didn't know about. **[1]** Since the two first met on Troll Patrol (read: babysitting day) with Roy, Robin had struggled with that imbalance. It was one of the few things that seemed to genuinely bother him, apparently.

_And now I've left Wally alone, too. Great. _Pushing away the thought that he was a true _idiot! _(complete with exclamation point), the archer threaded his way through the crowds and managed to collect about fifteen future bruises from the brick-like bags several women toted.

The Flash, or Barry Allen as he was known when in civvies, had been adamant about Speedy babysitting his nephew — and it didn't help that Green Arrow owed him for yet another _interpersonal event_. "His parents are out, and Iris and I were invited to the—"

"Wayne Foundation fundraiser, I heard," Roy had interrupted, a touch shortly. And naturally, once Rob had found out Wally's parents wanted him babysat, he had volunteered to complete the trio.

"It's easy enough!" Barry had reassured him. "Just don't let Wally feed Rob glitter glue and _no matter what_," he stressed, his usual smile replaced by an uncharacteristic seriousness, "no chocolate milk after nine." Then the Scarlet Speedster had clapped him on the shoulder in the manner of someone bestowing his blessings, and said reassuringly, "You'll be fine."

Just_ fine, _Roy repeated to himself sarcastically. Finally he reached the toy store window, in front of which Robin had apparently positioned himself — quite prominently, too. The nine-year-old, to Roy's growing consternation, had begun casually performing on-the-spot flips off the wall in his boredom, to the gasps of several passers-by.

_Whose idea was it to bring these two to the mall?_

Oh right. His.

Relief flooded through Roy, but somehow it came out as a reprimand. "Why didn't you go to a counter, get someone to help get me?" he scolded, the kindly tone in his voice making the lecture anything but fierce. "What if I hadn't realized you weren't there?"

Robin blinked up at him behind sunglasses custom-made to fit his small face. "I knew you'd come back for me," he slurred, looking a little tired and ridiculously adorable. His slender young frame began to sag and he rubbed at his eyes. Sighing, Roy nudged the back of his head, and through a series of light taps guided him back to McDonalds.

Wally took one look at his friend and, giving what little remained of his ice cream a mental goodbye, proffered it with a smile.

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**[1] Dick became Robin before Wally became KF, which was at age 13 according to canon-in-training on the Wiki page.** **And it's a personal headcanon that they met before then, and Rob felt guilty every time Wally said "Rob" thinking it was his real name.**

**m.e.**


	4. Now and Then

**Summary: "Makes my thoughts last a couple milliseconds longer. So maybe it wouldn't be as obvious that all those thoughts? All those thoughts came down to the same thing." Picks up right after the Bioship scene at the end of _Before the Dawn. _**

**Genres: Friendship, Angst  
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**Characters: Jaime R./Blue Beetle & Bart A./Impulse  
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"Isn't the floor kind of uncomfortable?" Jaime asks mutedly, his voice seemingly dampened by some unspoken tension in the atmosphere — the other members of the team have all broken off into similarly solemn conversations. He extends a hand as if to help Bart up, and to a proper seat. Momentarily he towers over the other boy, who has curled up into himself against the wall in a corner of the Bioship and proceeded to keep so uncharacteristically still that he seemed to have fallen asleep. But the speedster doesn't even open his eyes, just mutters, "Nah," and pats the floor beside him.

As Jaime shrugs and settles down in the specified spot, his companion adds, "I'm used to it. Plus I'm, uh, too moded to even _move_ right now."

He doesn't need to say a word more for them both to wordlessly agree to stay clear of the topic of the Reach's scientific 'experiments' on them. Jaime clears his throat and says the first thing that comes to mind.

"So, you… talk to yourself. Sometimes. Too. Like me, I– I mean."

_Not the most eloquent conversation starter_, Khaji Da notes dryly. _Nor very meaningful subject matter. Suggest recuperation in favor of pointless banter._

But he _does_ want to know more about Impulse, he realizes then. It's taken him only a couple days to notice they share the peculiarity — that, and a scattering of moments when the room goes collectively silent and the raised eyebrows are directed not at him, but the redhead speedster who is at his side surprisingly often.

Only after a moment's pause does Bart respond, reluctantly creaking open an eye to examine Jaime's expression before replying, "Yeah." Yet there's a level of alertness in his casually scrutinizing gaze that betrays his concern over the question. And a definite air of guardedness in his voice, a grim undertone that's never been there before.

"Wanna talk about why?" Jaime suggests, curiosity piqued.

A quick grin flashes across Bart's face. "You'd just laugh," he judges.

"I won't."

"You will." The words slip out before he can check that he means them, and then more follow. "I'm a speedster, right? And we… we think faster." Quick glance at Jaime's face to make sure he's following the train of thought. An encouraging nod from the latter. "Sometimes I think so fast it's like my thoughts are thinking thoughts — see, I just thought that. And sometimes I start talking and can't stop myself—"

_Like he is now_, Khaji Da mutters disparagingly, and Jaime instinctively shushes him.

"Sorry. Am I rambling?" asks Bart.

"No," Jaime replies, while Khaji Da drawls out a long _yes_. "Keep going, I'm listening."

"_Oh_," Bart says quietly, and seems heartened, somehow, by the statement. Then he checks himself and continues, "There… weren't a whole lot of people like you — people willing to listen to me — you know, in the future. Your future," he catches himself. He tries not to hear the unspoken words: _even you weren't you, forty years from now._

"_Our_ future," Jaime corrects him in turn, his jaw setting into a hard line. "And honestly, hermano, I would _never_."

What he doesn't realize is the real reason behind Bart's self-correction. His mind never left the future; his _present_ will always be the dismal world he described briefly on board the Reach's ship.

And Bart, unsurprisingly, doesn't mention it.

"I had—" the speedster continues, hesitatingly, "nowhere for my thoughts to go. Know what I mean?"

Jaime doesn't even have to nod for him to know the answer is yes.

"So I talked, a lot. To myself. It's stupid and silly but… i-it slows me down a little, see." He keeps his gaze locked on the wall directly opposite them to avoid his friend's piercing look. "Makes my thoughts last a couple milliseconds longer. So maybe it wouldn't be as obvious that all those thoughts? All those thoughts came down to the same thing."

"What's that?"

Jaime watches in fascination, almost, as Bart subtly curls up into himself, tucks his head in so his chin almost touches his chest and tightens his arms around his knees.

"Hey," he says reassuringly. "So far, _none_ of this has been 'stupid' or 'silly'. I haven't laughed. Do you really think I would, now?"

A beat passes, then Bart, muffled because his mouth is half-buried in his arms, murmurs, "Oh, I _know_ you wouldn't laugh at this part of the story."

Khaji Da is silent for once, and Jaime puts an arm around Bart and tries to ignore it when the latter tenses instinctively at his touch.

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**Originally published on tumblr, inspired by Joyfulldreams' artwork.**

**m.e.  
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	5. Se Manquer

"Wait up, Boy Wonder," Artemis calls, jogging to catch up with him near the edge of the circus grounds. Robin's hands are buried deep into the pockets of his black jacket, but she imagines them clenched into fists even if, as skilled an actor as he is, he has managed to work the anger out of his facial expression.

He turns slightly at the sound of her voice and just barely slows. But the momentary pause gives her the confidence to fall into step beside him and muse quietly, "You seem distraught."

A quirk at the corner of his lips. They head out into the cold night together with no apparent destination. At some point she shivers at the icy touch of snow on her bare arms, then mutely turns down his distractedly proffered coat, remembering the heat of the burning warehouse around them just the previous night and the contrasting chilling worry she felt seeing Robin collapse before her eyes.

He's focused on the colorful posters to their right, eyes searching for red and yellow vertical stripes, and figures in blue all perfectly synchronized, bodies arching and forming accidental congruence. When he actually sees it, however, his sense of dread grows as they approach it, so it seems like fate being simply unkind when Artemis picks just that poster to stop next to.

"I went to see them once, with my parents," she says, and the significance of the plural is not lost on him. "When I was very little. They were great."

And the significance of the past tense almost makes him lose it, right then and there, and he doesn't trust his voice so he remains silent, with the starry atmosphere abruptly frigid in the back of his throat.

"Wonder why they were taken off the roster," Artemis says presently, and the words literally slip out of him, unbidden. "_Why_?" he repeats incredulously, voice a little raspy. "Every Gothamite knows _why_. What were you doing four years ago, that you didn't _notice_?"

Artemis's voice is hard but definitely not unfeeling as she replies, "Counting down the days till my mum got out of jail. I guess I couldn't really _notice_ much else."

His body is facing away from the poster; only his head cranes around to gaze at it. For a while the falling snow seems to tiptoe around these two not quite broken, but definitely breaking, people.

"You really liked this circus, then?" she asks to break the silence. "Came here often?"

"I love the circus," Robin answers her quietly, and then turns and continues walking before Artemis can realize he never answered either question.

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**Inspired by Brella's graphic. Link in my tumblr fanfiction masterpost.  
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**m.e.  
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